


you were the one next to me

by kiyala



Series: all aglow [3]
Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gods & Goddesses, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-31
Updated: 2014-12-31
Packaged: 2018-03-04 11:38:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3066470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiyala/pseuds/kiyala
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first time the Sun God meets Combeferre.</p>
            </blockquote>





	you were the one next to me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [annaroserae](https://archiveofourown.org/users/annaroserae/gifts).



> For Anna, who probably loves the Sun God even more than Combeferre does.

There are rules that even gods must follow. Self-made rules, man-made rules, some so old that it's no longer how they came into being, only that it's important that they are obeyed.

Of all the rules in existence, Courfeyrac's least favourite is the one that is also the most difficult to avoid: time. Perhaps it's ridiculous, when he is the Sun God, when humans measure time against his comings and goings. His deity siblings do not follow the practice as closely; being immortal for long enough does not stop time from continuing its flow, but it begins to lose its significance.

Courfeyrac wishes that the same would apply to him, that his trips around the world meant nothing to him outside of it being who he is, but he counts the days, counts the weeks and months as they turn into years. He wishes that he would lose track, that each passing day would stop bringing with it the feeling that it's been far too long, that surely today, _surely today_ …

Of course, when the day comes, Courfeyrac is caught entirely off guard.

He likes to wander the cities in daylight, perhaps visit the Temple of Sun, if there is one. Mostly, he just enjoys being among the people that live in his light. It's another morning, another city, when the moment Courfeyrac has waited decades for finally arrives.

He's sitting on a park bench, engrossed in a book. He doesn't even look up as Courfeyrac approaches. It makes Courfeyrac chuckle and that, at least, captures his attention. At first he looks irritated by the intrusion but then he sees Courfeyrac, recognises who and what Courfeyrac is, and goes very still.

"Hello," Courfeyrac smiles warmly. "Is it alright if I sit beside you?"

People have scrambled out of Courfeyrac's way for less. The man before him simply looks at the bench, then back at Courfeyrac. "In the shade?"

"Just so. May I?"

"Do you really need to ask?"

Courfeyrac laughs softly. "No, but it's polite to."

The man gestures at the bench, watching Courfeyrac curiously. Courfeyrac watches him in turn, takes in the brown skin and darker brown eyes, narrowed with caution behind thick-framed glasses.

"What is your name?" Courfeyrac asks, because there is suddenly nothing in the world that he wants to know more than this.

"Combeferre."

Courfeyrac takes a deep breath and nods to himself. It feels right. " _Combeferre_."

"Am I in trouble?" Combeferre frowns. "Have I offended the gods?"

"Not at all." Courfeyrac smiles at him. "I just wanted to sit here."

"With me, specifically?" Combeferre asks. He coughs quietly and fiddles with his glasses. "Or am I giving myself too much credit, here?"

Courfeyrac chuckles. "I just wanted to sit here."

At first, Combeferre looks like he wants to protest the non-answer, but he shuts his mouth and picks up his book. He continues reading, resolutely ignoring Courfeyrac. It doesn't offend, but it makes Courfeyrac burn with a sudden impatience that he desperately tries to quell. Humans need time, he reminds himself. Time that they cannot afford to spend, but Courfeyrac himself has never had a shortage of it. He sits there and lets Combeferre read. People pass by, openly staring at Courfeyrac. He smiles in reply, waves if they wave at him, noting the way Combeferre's eyes dart from his book to track the movement, even if he doesn't move his head.

They sit there for half an hour before Combeferre puts his book down and clears his throat. He turns to Courfeyrac, but takes a moment to meet his eyes. "I have to go now."

"Have a good day," Courfeyrac replies. "Perhaps I'll see you again."

Combeferre pauses, frowning lightly before he nods. "Yeah. Maybe."

«·»

Courfeyrac leaves it for a week before returning to Combeferre's bench. He wants to go sooner, but he refrains and it's all worth it when Combeferre sees him coming this time, his lips twitching into a smile before he can hide it.

"You're back," Combeferre says by way of greeting. "I wondered if you would be. There aren't many people out there who have more than one conversation with a god. Any god."

"Is that what you would like?" Courfeyrac asks. "A conversation?"

Combeferre pats the bench beside him. "I certainly wouldn't turn down the opportunity."

They sit and talk for hours, and Courfeyrac is not at all surprised by the fact that Combeferre is full of questions. They trade answer for answer, Courfeyrac explaining all that he can about immortality, about the way he experiences time, the way he is both sitting on the bench and speaking to Combeferre while simultaneously watching over every place that his light touches. In return, he learns that Combeferre is a medical researcher, that he lives alone and that he enjoys reading science fiction. He learns the curve of Combeferre's smile, the way he will chew on his lower lip at he thinks, the slight crease that appears on his forehead when he tries to process a concept that is entirely alien to his mortal mind.

"Why me?" Combeferre asks, as they're about to part ways once again. There's another half-promise to see each other hanging in the air between them. "Of all of the people in the world, why me?"

Combeferre has no way of realising just what he's truly asked. There might not be a rule that restricts Courfeyrac's answer to this particular question, but there is a self-made pact and Courfeyrac has kept it for centuries. He isn't likely to stop now.

"You captured my interest," Courfeyrac replies and it's a half-truth. "I have always enjoyed speaking with humans who do not cower in the presence of gods."

"Then I will continue not to cower." Combeferre smiles. "I'll see you later, Courfeyrac."

Waiting until Combeferre has left, Courfeyrac covers his face with his hands and laughs to himself. In such a short span of time, Combeferre has already come to own him, and he doesn't even realise.

«·»

Their conversations become more regular, from weekly to every couple of days, to daily chats that might not last for hours but still always feel significant enough. Combeferre warms to him quickly, never once intimidated by the fact that Courfeyrac is a god. It's both charming and relieving, that Combeferre is not simply tolerating his presence due to his status as a deity. Combeferre is intelligent, he is dedicated to his work, he is witty and even if Courfeyrac had a choice in the matter, he knows that he would still be helplessly in love.

Combeferre notices, for he surely must. Courfeyrac is unsubtle as the midday sun and Combeferre catches him staring at times but only ever smiles in return, even as their daily encounters move away from the park bench and into Combeferre's apartment.

Courfeyrac lets himself in one morning, as the first rays of the rising sun shine through Combeferre's window, and finds him already standing there and waiting.

"Good morning," Courfeyrac greets with a fond smile. "You know that you don't need to wake so early, don't you?"

Combeferre shrugs. "I've always liked this time of day. Everything seems… softer. Unhurried. Even you do."

Courfeyrac blinks with surprise. "Do I?"

The only reply that Combeferre gives him is a smile, before he turns to the kitchen. "Do gods eat breakfast?"

"We don't _have_ to," Courfeyrac replies, "but if you're offering…"

Combeferre looks over his shoulder with a grin and it's inexplicably magnetic. Courfeyrac is walking towards him without even realising.

"Courfeyrac?" Combeferre asks as he turns around, as he is crowded against the counter, Courfeyrac's hands hovering over his hips. "…Courfeyrac, this is a bad idea."

"Oh." Courfeyrac steps back. "Do you… not want this?"

Stepping forward, Combeferre takes hold of Courfeyrac's hands. "I never said that."

"But…?"

"I don't know." Combeferre sighs. "You're the god here. I thought… I don't know, I thought you would be above human desire, or something."

"I'm not," Courfeyrac whispers, their noses nearly touching. "Not at all, Combeferre."

With a shaky sigh, Combeferre leans forward, crushing their lips together. It's been so long since Courfeyrac has had this that he can feel the time like a claw, tearing into his chest. He wraps his arms around Combeferre's shoulders, kissing back. 

Combeferre kisses him thoroughly and it's ridiculous that a human should leave him breathless like this. They're slow to pull apart and when they do, Combeferre is smiling, dazed, like he doesn't quite believe that this is happening. Courfeyrac pecks him on the lips again, just for that.

"How does this work?" Combeferre asks, worrying his lip between his teeth. "Are there rules?"

"We do what we're doing right now," Courfeyrac replies. "There are no rules, beyond what we deem necessary. I'm happy to spend your mornings with you as I do now. I'm happy with whatever you are comfortable with."

"I don't deserve this." Combeferre laughs uneasily. "I don't deserve _you_."

"Shh." Courfeyrac hushes him with another brief kiss. "People shouldn't think in terms of what they do and don't deserve. It helps no one, you know that much for yourself. I'm yours, if you want me."

"I do," Combeferre breathes.

Courfeyrac smiles at him. "Come on, I'll help you make breakfast."

Combeferre blinks at him. "Is it really that… easy?"

It's not easy at all and Courfeyrac wants to laugh at the notion that it could be. He wants to cry, to gather Combeferre into his arms and not let go for the handful of decades that they have together. 

Courfeyrac does none of this. Instead, he smiles and presses a kiss to Combeferre's cheek. "We'll make it work. That's all that matters."

**Author's Note:**

> Title from If I Lose Myself by OneRepublic


End file.
